Picture of You
by Anduria Trianys
Summary: Jack plans an unusual surprise for Ianto. Starts shortly after 'Something Borrowed' and continues up to after 'Exit Wounds'. Pure, unadulterated Jack/Ianto fluff. Seriously.


Picture of You

**Picture of You**

"Everything settled here?" Jack asked Owen and Tosh as he put on his coat.

"The Rift's quiet, there's no threat of alien invasion or anything like that." Tosh rolled her eyes and smiled at her leader and friend. "Go on, Jack; you and Ianto should go and…enjoy yourselves." She turned towards Owen. "We can take care of things here."

"Well, if you're –"

This time, Owen cut him off. "Jack, we'll be fine. We'll take care of things here and, yes, we will call you if the world decides to end – but only if it decides to end." He raised his eyebrows and put on a strange voice. "The world isn't going to end on my watch, Jack."

Jack laughed out loud and ruffled the young medic's hair. "Just make sure it doesn't." He grinned again and looked at his watch. "Got to run – see you later!"

Once the end of Jack's coat had disappeared, Owen groaned and smoothed his hair back. "I swear that man treats us like we're children sometimes," he grumbled.

"Oh, come on, Owen," smiled Tosh. "Let him protect us and treat us like we're children from time to time. It's just his way of showing that he cares about us."

She reached out to him for a second, resting her hand on his. "We'll be gone in a blink of an eye for him, Owen. Let him have these moments, because he'll cherish them for ever."

Owen looked up at her for a second before he moved his hand away and walked away into the autopsy bay. Once he was sure he was out of sight, he ran his hand through his hair once again, until he was sure it was standing upright, just as before.

He stifled a smile as he heard the sound of a gentle chuckle above him, but when he actually looked up, there was no one to be seen.

Jack leapt out of the taxi, letting the wind fly through his hair as he bounded up the stairs to Ianto's front door. He looked at his watch, still a bit early, but that didn't matter. It only meant that he would get to spend some more time with Ianto that way.

Smiling, Jack took off his coat and slung it over his shoulder before entering Ianto's flat uninvited – he practically lived there anyway – and flashing his partner a cheeky grin. "Are you ready to go?"

Ianto was curled up, half-asleep, on the sofa, and didn't answer straight away. In fact, it wasn't until Jack came and sat beside him and stroked his hair that he even woke up. When he did, however, the first thing he saw was the face of Jack's watch.

He yelped loudly and sat up. "Jack!" he gasped. "I – sorry, I fell asleep and lost track of the time…have you been waiting long?"

Jack laughed for a moment. "Nah, I've only just got here," he said, planting a kiss on Ianto's lips. "And you look gorgeous."

"I look terrible – I'm all crumpled and creased."

"No, you look great – you look natural…just like I want you to look." Jack pulled him gently to his feet. "Now grab your coat – it's chilly out there – and let's go."

"Where are we going?" asked Ianto as they slipped into the taxi.

Jack grinned. "You'll see," he said, wrapping his arms around Ianto's shoulders and pressing a kiss to his neck. "You'll see."

Ianto looked up as they stepped onto the pavement. "Jack, what's going on?" he asked.

Jack smiled. "Look," he said, pointing at the store they had pulled up outside.

Ianto followed Jack's finger and gasped when he realised where they were. "Jack!" he exclaimed, blinking rapidly, "Is this a…photographer's studio?"

Jack nodded, giving his partner a broad smile. "I thought it would be nice if we got some professional pictures of us done," he said. "I mean, it just struck me when we were at the wedding, watching the photographer; why shouldn't we have some of just us?"

"But this is going to cost a fortune!"

"I don't care. You're worth it – come on, Ianto, let's do this…please?"

Ianto didn't say anything, but he did drop his gaze and follow Jack into the shop. He wasn't really sure what to think – on the one hand, he was not a person who was comfortable with posing for pictures, but on the other hand, Jack had clearly gone to some trouble for this and he really did seem to want it. Plus, it would be pointless to deny that; deep down, he was extremely touched by the gesture.

"My friend, Taren, set this up for us," said Jack as they sat down in front of the screen. "It's something I've never really thought about doing, but…I don't know, it just seems to make sense right now." He patted Ianto's knee. "All you have to do, right now, is relax – and just remember; I'm here, right by your side."

Ianto couldn't help himself any more and he blurted out. "Why are you doing this, Jack?"

Jack didn't say anything for a moment and when he finally did speak his voice was quiet and slightly hoarse. "You know what they say," he answered. "A picture says a thousand words." He turned away then, but not quickly enough for Ianto to miss the flash of hurt that crossed over his face. But before he could say anything, a man, probably in his late thirties or early forties, and with greying black hair, came out to meet them. In one moment, Jack was smiling broadly and shaking the man's hand.

"Thanks for doing this, Taren," he said enthusiastically. "This really means a lot to us – to me," he amended quickly, giving Ianto a rather uncertain look.

Taren smiled understandingly. "When you're ready, I'll get started," he said and started to adjust the lenses on his camera, muttering all the while.

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but to his surprise, Ianto stopped him and stood up. "We're ready as soon as you are," he said softly and with a small nod. He brushed a hand over Jack's shoulder as he sat down beside him again.

Taren beamed. "All right – let's do this, shall we?" He ducked behind the camera. "Right…now, firstly, give me your best grins…really cheerful, like you're, I don't know, on an enormous rollercoaster or something!"

To Ianto, the shoot seemed to take an eternity. He was finding it an awful struggle not to blink when the flash went off and finding it even harder not to sit up like a flagpole, even though that was exactly how he felt, he was so tense.

Finally, Taren looked up again and smiled. "That's lovely," he said, but then raised his hand quickly. "No, wait, don't go, yet! There's one more that I want to try – which is actually why I'm glad you're both here in casual clothes."

He crossed in front of them and looked them straight in the eyes. "This time, I just want you both to be yourselves. Forget work, forget me…just forget everything, except that. Put aside Captain Jack Harkness and Ianto Jones and just be…" He paused for a second and then snapped his fingers. "Right now, you're just Jack and Ianto."

He stepped behind the camera again. "Just take your time…I won't say when I'm going to take the picture…take your time and make sure it feels right."

Ianto shuffled irritably on the stool, feeling extremely uncomfortable. How was he supposed to be himself when he knew that Taren was watching them? He knew that he should ignore the man, but that was easier said than done.

But moments later, he felt a gentle hand on the small of his back and the sensation of hair tickling the side of his face. He turned slightly and almost gasped at what he saw.

Jack had moved closely to him, so close that his fringe was brushing against Ianto's forehead. But it was the expression on his face that was so amazing…he was smiling, but it was that beautiful smile that made all the walls surrounding him crumble and fall, laying all his feelings and thoughts bare. His eyes were shimmering with the sheer weight of emotion they carried; joy and pain, laughter and tears…but above all else…love.

"Oh…Jack…" he whispered, but he got no further as Jack leaned forwards and very slowly and gently, brushed their lips together, their eyes linking immediately and their hands brushing each others. At that moment, nothing mattered; the studio, Taren and the camera, the street outside – all that mattered was this moment…and each other.

They didn't even register the clicking of the camera, or the flash of light as the photograph was taken. In fact, when they finally broke apart, Jack could only register Ianto's beautiful eyes…which were filled with tears.

"Are you okay?" he whispered, reaching over and gently stroking his young lover's face, still not making any effort to move away from him. When Ianto only gasped in reply, he moved closer and drew him into his arms, cradling him against his chest. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered, kissing the top of his head. "I'm here…I'm here."

Taren, feeling somewhat overcome by emotion himself, tactfully slipped into one of the back rooms to give them a little privacy. Jack smiled gently at him as he left, before turning his attention back to the young man in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, still stroking Ianto's hair. "I shouldn't have brought you here; I didn't realise that you were so uncomfortable with this. I just wanted to do something nice…something for us to remember the good times by…"

Ianto stirred slightly and looked up. His eyes were still moist, and there were slight hints of fallen tears on his face, but he was smiling as well. "Jack," he whispered, "it's beautiful. I'm not all that comfortable with myself at the best of times and I guess I was just really nervous. But it was a lovely surprise and I am really flattered that you wanted to do this." He shuffled closer and kissed Jack softly. "Thank you."

Jack nodded and kissed him again. "It's what I'm here for," he said, before drawing him closer and stroking his hair gently.

Five weeks later, Ianto lay alone on his sofa, staring at the sheets of rain flooding past his window pane. Through the blurred glass, he could see men, women and children all racing through the streets of Cardiff, talking, laughing, even going shopping, their coloured umbrellas protecting them from the driving storm.

None of them would ever know what had been sacrificed to keep them alive; the only people here who would truly understand were himself, Jack, Gwen and Rhys, the people who had known their saviours personally, who knew the full truth about what had happened on that dreadful day when everything changed.

Something suddenly caught his eye and he looked up to see a framed photograph on his mantelpiece. Going for a closer look, he felt his breath hitch as he realised that it was a picture of the whole team, taken shortly before Martha's arrival, standing in front of the water tower. On the left, Owen's mouth was set in a grimace, but his eyes were crinkled with laughter, showing that he wasn't really averse to the situation. Beside him, Jack, his cheeks creased up with laughter, had his arm wrapped around Ianto's shoulders as he himself grinned in an unusually cheeky manner. In front of them, kneeling on the ground, Gwen and Tosh were smiling and laughing into the camera, even as Tosh tried to roll her eyes as Gwen tried to play with loose strands of her hair.

Ianto realised then that he had never thanked Rhys for taking that picture just before everything had fallen to pieces. Not only did it give him the chance to remember Owen and Tosh, but it also showed that, despite being incredibly dysfunctional, they would each lay down their lives for each other and they loved each other deeply –when push came to shove, they were a family.

Suddenly, he was picking up the phone and dialling Gwen's home number. It was only a moment before Rhys' lilting voice answered him.

"Rhys," he stammered. "It's Ianto. No, don't get Gwen; I know that she's at the Hub; it was…actually you I wanted to talk to."

"Me?" Rhys sounded surprised. Even though he had grown closer to the team in the aftermath of firstly the wedding and then Owen and Tosh's deaths, they all knew that he still felt like an outsider – more than he really should, in some ways, especially considering all that he was doing in his fight to keep Gwen grounded.

"Yes," Ianto took a deep breath, trying to ignore the stinging behind his eyes. "I just wanted to say…" He paused again, the last words running into each other as he stared once again at the picture. "Thank you…for everything."

He didn't even hear Rhys' reply, because at that moment, the phone slipped from his ear and fell onto the table as he sank onto the floor, cradling the picture in his arms and breathing heavily as a single tear ran down his face. He wiped his cheek angrily as he looked at the picture again; Owen and Tosh wouldn't want him to do this. He would always miss them, of course he would, but they wouldn't want him to grieve forever. They would want him to move on, to live his life again.

"I'll try," he whispered, staring into Tosh's eyes. "I really will try…"

He was so lost in his own thoughts that he didn't even hear the door open and only registered the second presence when he felt a strong arm wrap around his shoulders and breathed in a unique and familiar scent.

"Hello, Jack," he said wearily, shuffling over slightly so his lover could sit comfortably.

Jack smiled and pulled him a little closer. "Look," he whispered, before drawing something out of his coat. It was a large black ring-bound sketchbook. "I went in today and picked up our photographs," he explained. "Don't worry, they look really good."

They did look good. Even in the pictures where Ianto had felt so tense he had been amazed that his neck hadn't snapped, he still managed to look calm and natural, as indeed did Jack. Taren really was a natural at this; he had managed, somehow, to capture something in the pictures that just made them seem so real. He supposed it shouldn't really have been a surprise considering the man was an old friend of Jack's.

But it was the last three pages that truly took Ianto's breath away. When they reached them, Jack, for the first time, seemed a little apprehensive as he turned the page over, even going so far as to turn away from them, his face a mask of emotion as he stroked the picture on the page almost reverently.

Ianto felt his voice leave him as he realised that Jack had included, among all the pictures of them, a copy of that same picture of the team outside the water tower. But it was the caption underneath that made his eyes water again.

"_A picture says a thousand words…"_

"Jack…" he gasped, trying to convey his happiness and sheer gratitude in that one word. "How did you…when…where…"

But Jack silenced him with a soft finger to his lips and turned the page. He smiled softly when he showed Ianto the next picture. It was that moment when, having barred their souls without speaking as much as a word, Jack had leaned forwards and caught his lover's lips, kissing him softly and chastely as he linked their hands together.

It was a moment before he realised that Jack had whispered something to him, but he had been so taken by the picture that he had missed it. When he looked up, however, Jack was looking back at the page…at the silver writing below the photograph.

"_A kiss says only three."_

Before he could say anything, though what he would have said, he didn't know, Jack turned his attention to the picture on the next page.

"I didn't even realise Taren had caught this one, until I met him today," he murmured, rolling his fingers through Ianto's hair. "He'd left the camera setting on when he left us alone and…it took the picture on its own." He smiled. "And I'm glad he did."

Ianto could see why; it was an unbelievable picture. It was amazing that something as simple as a tender embrace could say so much. Even though it was a still picture, he could almost see Jack cradling him and rocking him like a baby as he whispered soothing sounds, not even words, into his dark curls.

But it was the words underneath that clinched the sheer beauty of the scene.

"_But when the words are 'I love you'…_

_They're all the words you need." _

Ianto wanted to whisper the words as he traced the flowing script with his long fingers, but he found himself rendered speechless as the true meaning of what Jack was saying sunk in. He looked up and saw his lover's eyes glistening in the faded light of the cloudy sky outside, his face a simple picture of devotion as he was drawn into those strong arms, feeling the beat of Jack's heart against his hair.

_I __had a picture of you; I thought that you would just appreciate a pretty face and tight jeans. How wrong could I have been? _

At the same time, Jack had thoughts of his own running through his head.

_I had a picture of you; I thought that you were just like the others at Torchwood London with a pretty face. I could never have thought I'd be so wrong._

As they looked at each other, one single thought ran through both their minds.

_I spent so long looking for someone to understand…to give me meaning…and you were right here all along. That is my new picture…my picture of you._


End file.
